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Meet Jose Lara
He is an English teacher who travels to six different rural primary schools every week. He took the wkshp I gave last year, and has been in my advanced conversation class the past few months. Just outside of Banos, halfway to Pelileo lies a lush valley village called Patate. Here, Jose Lara keeps his bees, beside a lovely citrus grove and under an enormous avocado tree. Every few months he goes to check the hives and this particular Saturday he invited me along. I've always been fascinated by apiculture -- the whole concept of buzzing insects creating a sweet, edible treat seems amazing to me. This excursion was an awesome, hands-on learning experience!
It seems I'm always in a hurry to get to Banos and this was the first time I'd taken the time to turn off the main highway, taking a narrow stone road dropping down to Patate. We continued on through the town and up into the hills beyond. Jose's mother-in-law farms some fields above, but the friendly woman who lives below allows Jose to keep his bees on her land.
After unloading our protective gear from the truck, we wound our way through groves of tangerine and apple trees until we stopped in the shade of an enormous avocado tree. There Jose and his son Josue David suited
The Guys Suiting Up
Jose helps his son and beekeeping assistant, Josue David into his protective full body suit and headgear. up and helped me into a one-piece flame-retardant shirt with attached headpiece. It was like putting on a hat with a mesh bridal veil hanging down to where it connected with the collar of the shirt. Jose had advised me to wear thick jeans and hiking boots and these he taped together at the ankles. The guys wore heavy canvas coveralls which tucked into their calf-high socks. Josue David and I pulled on rubber gloves, but Jose needed his hands bare to manipulate the hives. (He only got stung once on his thumb).
The small, hand-made bellows basically consisted of a metal can (where we ignited scraps of balsa wood) attached to a small bellows (triangle shaped "beak" with rubber accordian sides for pumping out the smoke). We approached the hives and Jose suggested I stand off to one side. As he lifted the lid off the wooden box, the bees began to swarm, but quickly calmed as Josue David billowed smoke in their direction. Many of them retreated to the lower half of the hive box (their living quarters, as it were). The upper part of the box has a
Preparing the Smoke Can
Jose also makes & sells balsa wood handicrafts, and the wood scraps are perfect for the smoke bellows since balsa makes a lot of smoke and burns slowly. rack that holds about 10 wooden frames, each pre-prepared with a criss-cross mesh to facilitate the bees' honeycomb construction.
As each of the wooden frames was lifted out and examined, the puffs of smoke hypnotized and tranquilized its occupants. If Jose determined that there were too many unhatched larvae in the honeycomb cells, the frame would go back in the box. When there were pieces of waxy honeycomb protruding from the frame itself, he broke them off and put them in a plastic bag (which he later gave to me). It was fun and yummy to chew these bits of gooey, sweet wax.
I took over the bellows for awhile to give Josue David a rest. It was not as easy as it appeared, and I inadvertently melted the thumb of the rubber gloves I was wearing. After awhile it got to feeling heavy but when I tried to rest it against my belly, I realized why the shirt I was wearing had a patch in the front. Oops - almost burned my belly!
Cover Every Bit of Skin
Jose also has to cover up, however he doesn't wear gloves while he's working because he says it's too hard to manipulate the hives and frames. If it was decided that a wooden frame was to come along with us for honey extraction, Jose had to carefully coax the bees to allow him to "borrow" their home & workplace. He grabbed a tuft of leaves from a nearby bush and gently brushed the bees off their honeycomb. Lulled by the puffs of smoke, they reluctantly moved along - some buzzing into the lower dormitory section of each box, others dispersing over the citrus grove.
Jose asked if I'd like to try removing a frame. It was so much heavier than I expected, and not just because of the wood part of the frame. Every tiny cell of the honeycomb was brimming with honey! As Jose brushed the stragglers away, I was very glad to have my mesh face shield. It was an odd sensation to feel strangely calm while hundreds of bees buzzed around my head.
About 18 of the 30 or so frames were loaded into different wooden transport boxes. We drove back into town where Jose keeps his centrifuge at his brother's place. The
Me in a Borrowed Bee Suit
Jose borrowed this all-in-one shirt and mesh headgear. Like the patched belly section? I think I look like a Teletubbie. Hola Tinky Wink!! round metal tub was scrubbed down and dried. Each of the wooden frames was gently scraped, removing a substance called "operculo" (operculus?). As this dense surface was removed, the gooey interiors of the honeycomb cells were exposed. Jose carefully lowered the frames into one of three specially designed open-sided racks welded within the centrifuge.
Fitting the bit of a hand drill onto the central spoke which united the three racks, Jose slowly and steadily spun the mechanism. As he did so, droplets of honey flew off the frames, coating the walls of the metal tub. As the spinning continued the honey began to drip down the sides, pooling at the bottom. Jose removed each rack and turned it around so the other side would release its viscous treasure. Removing the now lightweight frame, Jose showed me how the waxy structure could bow out and be damaged from excessive centrifugal force. Therefore, the spinning process needed a slow increase in speed and then level into a steady spinning velocity.
After several replacing the frames and spinning a few more rounds, we had to lift the tub
Full Body Protection!
Instead of wearing coveralls, I wore jeans and hiking boots and taped them together. Not a single bee flew up my pants! and pour the harvested honey into buckets. Back home, Jose would need to strain the honey (a few dead bees and bits of debris got into it) and finally purify it through cheesecloth before selling it for about $3 per plastic tub (about a pint). Once all of the frames had been centrifuged, we carried the now lighter boxes back to the truck and drove back up the hill to return them to their wooden hive boxes. The bees greeted us (joyfully?) and their homes were reconstructed.
All in all it was a fascinating day....let's just say it was "the bees' knees!"
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Marianna Cacciatore
non-member comment
Bee friends
Jill, I have two people in my life who keep bees -- a woman who works with me at Bread for the Journey, Sierra Castillo. And another woman in my sangha -- Padma Catell. I have been to Padma's twice when they are harvesting the honey and it's fascinating. Your photos and descriptions are exactly what I saw and experienced. Thanks for sharing. Sending my love always, Marianna